


Lord of Light or Illusionist

by WolvesWaitingRose



Category: Original Work
Genre: Implied/Referenced Character Death, Reminiscing, Sad, Speeches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-28
Updated: 2015-05-28
Packaged: 2018-04-01 17:20:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4028320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolvesWaitingRose/pseuds/WolvesWaitingRose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He was not gone. They wouldn’t believe it.<br/>Yet thinking about Him you couldn't help but questioned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lord of Light or Illusionist

He was not gone. They wouldn’t believe it. But all of them knew, deep within their gore ridden hearts, he was gone. They never said it out loud, if they did then that would mean it was true. He had saved them. All of them. Of us. Everyone in this sorry miserable excuse of a land. He had saved, with the cost of his life. A cost he gladly paid.  
His last words rang through their heads, his last stand burnt into their mind for the rest of their lives. They would remember. His speech to them in the days running up to that fateful day.  
“Remember me.” He said in his graceful tone that staunched their nerves time and again. “Remember but only in happiness. For I would rather you forget and smile. Then remember me and cry.”  
Those word cut into their hearts. Our hearts. We would never forget that man as he stood by every one of us. All dirtied in our own way, next to this lord of light, who shined and made every one of us shine with him.  
They never shed a tear for him. None of them. And we didn’t either.

“And in your pain, you are ugly. Your innocent beauty squandered by pain. Brutally broken, fathomlessly fractured, desolately destroyed, by such a pure evil. That manifests itself, nurtured in your warm heart. Something ugly from, something breathtakingly beautiful. The soul such a fickle thing but the heartless heart the worst of all.”

I knew when he looked up at me with those deep eyes and serene smile, he was already gone. He unlike us had accepted his fate and we can all but sit and wait. I knew, you knew, we knew and he knew. That this man was no man at all. He was but a little boy, a broken little boy in a man’s body, and he knew.  
Upon thinking about this man that brought us to what we knew and now reminisce, I get this sense that we were blind all along. Yet I am undecided as to whether we were blind to him or blinded by him. His dreams, just tangible, but still enough to ensnare us to what we think we want. Giving the need for our absolute drive to seek that of which we never sought to want before. This enrapturing being, crawling within our minds and hearts, fuels the fire which throws us into the fray that challenges our beliefs. His is the man that enslaved us to a dream, a vision that we, more simple minded war hardened bodies could only hear of in fantasies. And there we were in the depths of a life changingly horrific, other worldly dream that swept us up and played with us like a political child. This was our perfect downfall.

**Author's Note:**

> I love war movies - from all era's, but they will never hold a candle to being in real war or even loosing people to war and that feeling just can not be portrayed because everyone deals with that type of scar differently. That being said I wanted to try my hand at a third person look at a leader who gave everything for what he believed in, yet under all his hype he was scared and broken. I never believe anyone wins a battle or war because both sides loose lives, thats the downfall - dying is inevitable but dying through war hold its own with its type of grief.   
> Please review. Awooh x


End file.
